idiotprufs

Illegal in 38 states–frowned upon in the rest.

Archive for the category “fitness”

Erie’s Sister Cities to Rescind Sibling Status — gooferie

In a joint statement, Erie’s four sister cities have announced that they are ending their familial relationship with Erie, at least for the time being. The four sister cities: Zibo, China; Lublin, Poland; Merida, Mexico; and Dungarvan, Ireland made the announcement after seeing recent stories coming out of Erie about job losses, drug overdoses, and […]

via Erie’s Sister Cities to Rescind Sibling Status — gooferie

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Running Man

sweaty runner

I just want to share a conversation I had with a exuberant runner.

Runner: Do you want to know what I think.

Me: I sincerely doubt it.

Runner: You should start running.

Me: I would need a good reason to start running.

Runner: The cardiovascular benefits.

Me: That’s not a good enough reason to start running.

Runner: What’s a good enough for you to start running?

Me: If I were on safari in Africa and a pack of elephants stampeded toward me, I would run.

Runner: That’s ridiculous.

Me: No it’s not. If you were on safari in Africa and a pack of elephants stampeded toward you, you would definitely want to run.

Runner: I mean a good reason.

Me: Not being trampled to death by elephants is pretty good reason.

Runner: Don’t you want to have better stamina as you get older?

Me: Better stamina? I can climb at least two or three flights of stairs before the searing pain in my side renders me unconscious.

Runner: Is that how you want to live?

Me: Listen, I’m fine. I walk at least two miles every day–I get plenty of exercise.

Runner: But walking doesn’t give you the same high you get from running.

Me: I smoke crack while I walk, so getting a high isn’t really a problem.

Runner: Now you’re just trying to be stupid.

Me: I’m not trying–it’s really no effort at all.

Runner: Tell me what it would take to get you to run.

Me: Well, if I was in Tokyo and Godzilla attacked…hey, where are you going.

Evidently getting away from me is also a good reason to run.

elephants

You’d better run!

 

 

 

French Fries and Lab Rats

lab rat idiotprufs cancerI was recently informed that French fries cause cancer in lab rats. I found this to be quite distressing; I don’t know how many times I’ve sat around all night with all of my lab rat friends and devoured buckets of French fries.

I was informed of this by a snarky little man. Unfortunately before I could glean any further information, our conversation was cut short by an unavoidable accident involving the side of his head and a plastic fork.

Note: in an unrelated matter, I have always felt there should be occasions when it’s legal to stab a person in the side of the head with a plastic fork. Unfortunately the law is far less progressive in its thinking than I am. Let’s get on this, Congress.

I decided to check this out for myself.

It turns out the weird little man was right…a weird little bit. A substance called acrylamide, which is found in fried foods, has been used to induce cancer in lab rats. Here’s the twist: to ingest the same amount of acrylamide that was injected into these lab rats, you would have to eat 346 large orders of McDonald’s fries everyday.

If you eat 346 large orders of large McDonald’s fries everyday, the list of medical and mental health professionals you deal with will be lengthy. You’re likely to hit coroner before you get to oncologist.

It also seems that these lab rats are bred to be susceptible to cancer. Something as slight as a simple change of diet can induce cancer in lab rats.

Note: In a similar study, scientists have discovered that lab rats that are whomped over the head with a brick, are more susceptible to concussions than lab rats that aren’t whomped over the head with a brick.

It has also been discovered every time a potato farmer in Idaho named Earl utters the word crap-shack, lab rats in Sweden immediately develop cancerous growths. The day he fell off his tractor and broke his tailbone, every lab rat in Sweden ballooned to the size of a cantaloupe.

After doing an extensive amount of research–making things up– I’ve come up with a list of things that cause cancer in lab rats.

  • sugar
  • caffeine
  • salt
  • nicotine
  • alcohol
  • radon
  • plutonium
  • radium
  • yellow cake uranium
  • yellow cake with frosting
  • strawberry shortcake
  • Strawberry Shortcake the doll
  • Guys and Dolls the musical
  • Cats the musical
  • cats
  • dogs
  • pink flamingos
  • pink the color
  • Pink the singer
  • Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon
  • Floyd the barber
  • barber shop quartets
  • Justin Bieber’s smug little face
  • face paint
  • clowns
  • mimes
  • any subset of clowns
  • Jersey Shore reruns
  • Pauly Shore reruns
  • Pauly Shore movies
  • Bob Costas’ hair
  • the word okie-dokie
  • potato farmers named Earl
  • everything

So the next time you think about telling me that French fries cause cancer in lab rats–pending action from Congress–you might just get stabbed in the side of the head with a plastic fork.

Correction: Justin Bieber’s smug little face does not cause cancer in lab rats; it kills them outright.

idiotprufs

“Hey, you can’t pin cancer on me. High cholesterol: maybe. Obesity: yes. But not cancer.”

What the Hell is Going on?

drinking monkey

(image source: washingtontimes.com)

 

Here is an excerpt from an article from The Washington Times.

Right now the National Institutes of Health is spending $3.2 million to get monkeys to drink alcohol excessively to determine what effect it has long term on their body tissue.

What the hell is going on?
I have so many problems with this:
  • Do you think it’s wise for an animal already prone to flinging it’s crap, to drink alcohol excessively? Crap flinging is the main reason Piers Morgan gets shut off at his local pub after only two drinks.
  • I don’t need $3.2 million to tell what the long term effect of drinking alcohol on body tissue: it’s really bad. In fact, alcohol is practically a cure for not having cirrhosis.
  • There’s already been long term documentation on the effects of drinking alcohol excessively. It was called Jersey Shore, and the results were horrifying. Odd skin discoloration, weird ceramic looking hair, annoying speech patterns, promiscuous behavior and a general oafishness, were just some of the effects displayed during this study.
  • What questionable methods are these researchers employing to get these monkeys to drink excessively? Do they give them low paying jobs and put them in loveless marriages, and constantly remind them of their unfulfilled potential? Do they make listen to bleak Russian poetry with its dark imagery and veiled critique of Stalinism, or worse: Sylvia Plath poems. Do they make them watch Jersey Shore reruns with the knowledge that these people are now wealthy and famous. The possibilities are all very disturbing.

And then I came upon this excerpt from the same article:

NIH also has handed out $69,459 to the University of Missouri to study whether text messaging college students before they attend pre-football game tailgates will encourage them to drink less and “reduce harmful effects related to alcohol consumption.”

What the hell is going on?

We’re spending money trying to stop college students from drinking at football games. That’s like trying to stop plants from photosynthesising in the sunlight.

Meanwhile, we’re forcing alcohol, and likely Sylvia Plath, down the throats of innocent monkeys!

What the hell is going on?

And how are these text messages supposed to work? Are they based on how well the warnings on the packs of cigarettes have worked? You could put the following warning on a pack of cigarettes:

Smoking can cause heart disease, lung cancer, strokes, bad breath, rabies, Ebola, explosive diarrhea, your left eyeball will pop out of it’s socket at really inconvenient times, dry mouth, and your penis may or may not fall off.

And all a smoker will think is: whoa, this must be the good stuff.

Why do we even bother putting people in prison when all we have to do is send out the following text message:

Dear Good People,

Please refrain from theft, assault, and most crucially–murder. Basically anything illegal. You get the idea. After all, what are we–a bunch of drunken monkeys? lol.

Thank you for your time.

This is all very disturbing to me. I think I’ll join the monkeys and have a cocktail. I may even fling a little crap.

 

Reefer Madness and a Bit of Math

pot shop

Albert Einstein almost never hung out here.

Dutch researchers have done it again.

From the people who have already given us windmills, Holstein cows, gouda cheese, Heineken, orange carrots (seriously, orange carrots-look it up), and crucially: the idea that my date will pay for her own meal, comes another breakthrough.

Dutch researchers have determined that students who were banned from smoking marijuana in Dutch coffee shops were found to be more likely to pass exams, specifically math based ones.

The effect is “five times larger” for courses requiring quantitative thinking and maths-based tasks, the researchers wrote. They then crossed out that figure and changed it to “four times larger” before crossing out that figure and changing it to “ten times larger.” They then admitted that they were quite confused and unsure of the figures–they had been smoking a lot of pot that day. They then put on some Steely Dan records and sent out for munchies.

Note: in an unrelated study, Dutch researchers have discovered that people who repeatedly whomp themselves in the face with a wooden shoe, are more likely to suffer from headaches than people who don’t. Additionally, people who drink a case of Heineken every day are even more likely to whomp themselves in the face with a wooden shoe, but less likely to feel the effects. The Dutch are freakin’ awesome.

The Dutch, known for their thoroughness and incredible dyke building skills, have compiled a list of activities hindered by the use of marijuana:

  • Basic math skills.
  • Advanced math skills.
  • Common core math (actually, heavy drug use helps with this).
  • Operating heavy machinery.
  • Operating heavy machinery while trying to remember the lyrics of your favorite Grateful Dead song.
  • Operating heavy machinery while remembering that your favorite Grateful Dead song has no lyrics; it’s just 25 minutes of twangy guitar music.
  • Taking deep breaths without hacking up a lung.
  • Finding Lake Titicaca on a map.
  • Saying the name Lake Titicaca without giggling uncontrollably.
  • Not giggling uncontrollably.
  • The ability to have a conversation with a person without referring to him as “man” repeatedly.
  • The ability to enter a grocery store without purchasing a case of Twinkies.

Additionally, the Dutch have discovered in manufacturing companies where marijuana use is prevalent among its workers, production levels have seen a substantial drop. However, this doesn’t apply to companies that produce tie-dye clothing; drug use in those companies seems to cause an explosion of production…at least until everyone forgets what they’re supposed to be doing and they wander off.

Note: it is a little known fact that tie-dye was invented in 1928, when after eating a tainted breakfast burrito, Walt Disney vomited on a co-workers shirt, and really liked the way it looked. He then drew something about a mouse on a steamboat. The Dutch don’t invent everything.

Meanwhile in North Korea:

Even More Taglines, Just to Piss You Off

drunken monkey

An avid reader of idiotrufs, and quite possibly the author.

Are you sick of taglines? Too bad.

Some more taglines for your consideration, amusement or scorn.

idiotprufs: the blog that’s had the hiccups since 1987.

idiotprufs: what happens when everything goes horribly wrong.

idiotprufs: the blog that taught Michael Jackson how to moonwalk, but had nothing to do with all that other weird stuff.

idiotprufs: the blog that was really freaked out by the flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz.

idiotprufs: whatever stupidity happens to tumble from my brain.

idiotprufs: illegal in 38 states–frowned upon in the rest.

idiotprufs: the blog that doesn’t check to see if the milk has gone bad before it chugs it straight from the container.

idiotprufs: the blog that vomits far more often than it ought to.

idiotprufs: the real reason the dodo bird is now extinct.

idiotprufs: the blog that would have been burned at the stake in the Middle Ages.

idiotprufs: the blog that is often referred to as the juggernaut of the blogging world by people who are prone to hyperbole, and frequently imaginary.

idiotprufs: the blog that lost its virginity, but then immediately found it again. (It was right where it had left it.)

idiotprufs: the blog that giggles uncontrollably every time it meets someone from Intercourse, Pennsylvania.

idiotprufs: where brain cells go to die.

idiotprufs: the blog that has unsettling fantasies about Wolf Blitzer dressed in nothing but bicycle shorts and a monocle.

idiotprufs: the blog that can’t find Ecuador on a map…of Ecuador.

idiotprufs: the blog that thinks North Iowa is a state.

idiotprufs: the blog that plans to name its firstborn after a Muppet.

gonzo muppet

Gonzo: the probable name of idiotprufs’ first born (boy or girl).

idiotprufs: the blog that can do anything it wants because no one is paying attention anyway.

idiotprufs: the blog that wore alligator skin boots to its job interview with Peta, and got thrown out of the building.

idiotprufs: the blog that has been accused of smashing its neighbors garden gnomes with a shovel.

idiotprufs: the blog that thinks its neighbor shouldn’t make accusations that he can’t prove.

idiotprufs: the blog that doesn’t wait 60 minutes after eating before it goes swimming.

idiotprufs: the blog that tore the labels off its mattress with an arrogant disregard for the law.

idiotprufs: the blog that once brazenly robbed a group of mimes at gunpoint, but got away with it because nobody talked.

idiotprufs: the blog that is way too proud of the previous mime joke.

idiotprufs: the blog that took two years of Spanish in high school, but still can only count to ten.

idiotprufs: a clear sign that the end is near.

idiotprufs: the blog that is used as currency in prison.

idiotprufs: the blog that was once rejected as a cast member of Big Brother, because it just wasn’t slutty enough.

tidiotprufs: the blog that is badgered nightly by Mickey Mantle’s ghost, spitting sunflower seeds on it.

idiotprufs: the blog that still can’t find Waldo, regardless of how persistently it tries.

idiotprufs: the blog that wept like a baby when it saw Brian’s Song.

idiotprufs: the blog that it’s creator refers to as “the babe magnet.”

idiotprufs: the blog that believes Bigfoot is real, but has serious doubts about Donald Trump’s hair.

idiotprufs: also predicted by the Mayans, but John Cusack has no plans to make a crappy movie about it.

idiotprufs: what Sir Isaac Newton was actually thinking about right before that apple fell on his head.

idiotprufs: the tenth level of Hell in Dante Alighieri’s Inferno before the editing.

idiotprufs: the only one of Aesop’s fables that didn’t have a moral.

idiotprufs: oh the humanity.

idiotprufs is stilled freaked out by flying monkeys.

idiotprufs is still freaked out by flying monkeys.

Toothless and Full Figured in Pennsylvania: How I Would Tell the Story

Goodbye, dear friend.

UNSPECIFIED SMALL TOWN, PA.–A local dentist is facing a medical malpractice inquiry and possible assault charges after removing all of her ex-boyfriend’s teeth.

The aptly named Anita Payback told authorities that she had every intention of maintaining professionalism until she pulled that first tooth.

“I yanked out that first tooth and it felt so good. So I yanked out another one. After that, I pulled another one. Then I thought, this is horrible, I can’t do this. So I downed half a bottle of vodka and yanked them all out.”

“I knew something was wrong as soon as I woke up,” the victim, John Q. Stoogely told authorities, “I couldn’t feel my teeth, my face was heavily bandaged and just felt weird all over. I looked over at Anita and she was just sitting there, laughing hysterically and clutching an empty bottle of Vodka. Sitting on the counter next to her was a jar full of bloody teeth. The jar was labeled: Rat Bastard’s teeth.”

When asked if he didn’t think it was a bad idea to go to a recently jilted girlfriend for dental work, he replied, “Why would I? I made it very clear to Anita that the break up had nothing to do with her: my new girlfriend Brenda is just younger, prettier, and she just looks better in daylight.”

But the story gets even weirder. “As I was waking up, I realized that my chest was really sore. I went to rub my chest and there they were; not only had she pulled all my teeth, she had also given me breast implants.”

According to Anita, the trouble with their relationship had started a few months earlier on her birthday. “I opened my birthday present and I couldn’t believe my eyes. He had gotten me a pair of breast implants. He offered to pay for the surgery like it was an act of great generosity. Well he wanted breast implants, now he’s got them…the case of anti-aging cream pissed me off too.”

“I can’t believe she did this,” John commented. “I trusted her. I even told her right before she put me under, that I knew she would do a good job because what women of her age lose in looks, they gain in maturity.”

To punctuate an already odd story, John’s new girlfriend Brenda has broken up with him.

“He’s got no teeth,” Brenda told us, “and it turns out he’s kind of an idiot. And quite frankly, I just can’t date a man who has bigger breasts than I do.”

“Seriously, I’m gonna do it.”

A World Record by a Nose

miller noseIn August of 1976, Tom Miller of the United States, spent 4 days, 23 hours, 47 minutes, and 3 seconds, pushing a peanut to the summit of Pike’s Peak, with his nose.

He set a new world record for pushing a peanut to the summit of Pike’s Peak with your nose and forever became known as “that weirdo who pushed a peanut to the top of Pike’s Peak with his nose.”

The Guinness Book of World Records took notice and recorded his feat not once, but twice.

#1 For pushing a peanut to the top of Pike’s Peak with his nose.

#2 For the biggest waste of 4 days, 23 hours, 47 minutes, and 3 seconds, in recorded history.

Tom Miller’s parents wept tears of joy…well, they wept a lot.

Tom Miller’s life would never be the same.

But few remember the other participant in this record-setting  journey and how he was left forever broken.

mr peanut

“Tom Miller can bite me.”

 

Physically Fit to be Tied–And a Bit Older

image credit: TMZ

(image credit: TMZ)

“Are you physically fit?” bellowed the man on the television screen as he jabbed a muscular finger in my direction.

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed, a bit startled by the suddenness of the question.

“Are you physically fit?” he persisted. This man was loud, muscle bound, and so deeply tanned that where ever he was, he must have been near the surface of the sun.

“You’re getting older,” he continued.

I am getting older, I thought, nearly every day.

“Do you even know what it means to be physically fit?”

I had to admit that I really didn’t.

“Of course you don’t know what it means, you’re a tiny pathetic weed of a man.”

I still didn’t know what it meant, was a little insulted, but wished that someone would tell me.

“Well I’m going to tell you.” He seemed to be reading my mind. “Physical fitness is the ability of the body to function with vigor and alertness, and with ample energy to engage in leisure activities. Endurance and cardio respiratory integrity are the overt signs of physical fitness.

Well this was absolutely no help at all.

My body functions with vigor and alertness, in as much as I seldom fall asleep when I don’t want to. I have endurance; I can run over one-hundred feet before the searing pain in my side renders me unconscious. As far as cardio respiratory integrity goes, my heart’s been beating for my entire life and hasn’t stopped yet, how much more integrity do you need?

Ample energy for leisure activities? Any activity that requires an amount of energy that can be characterized as ample, isn’t leisurely at all.

Here are a few activities that I don’t consider leisurely: running, jogging, speed walking, walking normally over long distances, walking slowly up an incline, lifting heavy objects, carrying heavy objects, lifting then subsequently carrying heavy objects, rock climbing. Rocks should never be climbed, if you’re trying to get somewhere and there is a rock in the way, go around it or blow it up. Why do think Alfred Nobel invented dynamite? They didn’t name that award after him because he wasted his time scrabbling up and down rocks.

It was at this point that the man on the screen began doing squat-thrusts. There has never been a time in the history of mankind that it was necessary to do a squat-thrust.

I decided to change the channel. Eventually I found a man reclined in a hammock, sipping a drink through a straw as waves washed a sun soaked beach in the background.

Now that’s a leisurely activity; one for which I have ample energy.

idiotpruf

Goofy has the idea.
(image source: wondersofdisney.com)

Deliverance: Not the Only River Tale to End Badly

rafting

“Paddle faster you idiots.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be refreshing,” my friend assured me. I had strong doubts as I stood on the shore and watched the river’s water heave and surge past. My trepidation fueled less by the tenacity of the water, more by the fact that what I did in the water could be described less as swimming and more as a labored attempt to avoid drowning. In pit of my stomach, I could feel that this rafting trip was about to turn ugly.

Rivers that are used for rafting are separated into five classifications. Class one rivers are basically flat, smooth waters that can be easily navigated. Class five rivers are rapidly descending, treacherous waters that require considerable experience to navigate.

Class one rivers are for tiny little girls and wimps. Class five rivers are for studly men who like to the laugh in the face of the Grim Reaper. We chose a class three river, we were average men who like the laugh in the face of the Grim Reaper but only when the Grim Reaper is at a distance and busy with somebody else at the time.

The trip was going well, we had successfully navigated our way through several sets of rapids without major incident. It was then that the guide told us to bring our rafts to shore where he informed us that this was the part of the trip where we could walk back upstream and go back through the last set of rapids.

“What,” I asked casually, attempting to mask the alarm in my voice, “do you mean without the raft?”

“That’s right, you’re just going to jump in the water and go,” the guide said with an annoying amount of confidence.

“Are you certain that’s safe?”

“Absolutely, these are very deep rapids.”

“It’s safe because deep water is harder to drown in?”

“Yes…I mean, no. When it comes to rapids, deeper is safer.” I could detect a timbre of irritation creeping into his voice.

“Okay, I understand…I’m curious, what are your thoughts concerning skydiving without the parachute?”

I could tell by the dagger filled stare that was shooting my way, that is was time to stop asking questions. This was the man whom I would depend upon to pull semiconscious body from the water should the need arise.

One by one, like lemmings, we climbed onto the top of a small boulder and leapt into the river.

I made through the first two mini-rapids without a problem. It was the third set of rapids where a sudden surge of water lifted my body for a moment then pulled me under the surface. Murky river water shot up my nose at approximately 2000 mph, ricocheted off the bottom of my brain, then poured into my lungs.

Not wanting to be filled with murky river water, my lungs immediately expelled the water back through my mouth and nose with considerable force. My eyes, feeling left out, began to water profusely. I was now spinning out of control and my arms were flailing around like a crazed marionette.

This was the moment I chose to invent a new game. I call the game “Whack your face against the rock.” I invented this game approximately two seconds after the guide yelled, “Hey, don’t whack your face against the rock.”

“Are you okay?” the guide chortled, unable to mask his amusement. I signaled to him with a thumbs up…well, it was a single digit.

As I slowly spun out of the rapids and crawled to shore, gasping for air and coughing simultaneously (something that I had previously thought to be physically impossible) my friend asked, “Are you going to go again?”

“No,” I replied. “I think that I’m refreshed enough.”

river raft

The IOC is considering whack-your-face-against-the-rock for the 2020 Olympics.

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